


Defence Mechanism

by Aithilin



Series: NyxNoct Week 2020 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Battle Couple, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, NyxNoct Week 2020, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26705977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Noctis is not a helpless Prince waiting to be rescued.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Nyx Ulric
Series: NyxNoct Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939900
Comments: 12
Kudos: 67
Collections: NyxNoct Week 2020





	Defence Mechanism

Noctis was a powerhouse of magic, that was never in question. There was no real contest between the borrowed magic burning through the Kingsglaive troops and the making inherent and coursing through his veins. Nyx had seen the Prince zip through the air and throw spells around like there was no risk of being consumed the same way the Glaives would be if they tried the same. He had watched the Prince recover midair from a fiery strike or crackling lightning that would have incinerated even their most talented mages; landing with a careful warp strike to the ground and shaking off the energy that would have destroyed even the Shield rushing to his side. 

Nyx had seen the young man— fearless and ferocious as he rolled to his feet on the polished training room floors of the Citadel or out in the dusts of the Glaive yards— blink in and out of existence on instinct to avoid the punishing blows of seasoned warriors. The phantom glimpse of his fledgling Armiger chiming its warning against training daggers and blunted swords and clumsy spells that ripped through the new Glaives throwing them. 

Nyx knew that look of awe when the recruits realized that the invincibility they felt with their borrowed magic was nothing compared to what the royal family could really do. 

“Come on, little star, stay with me.”

He also knew that when the barrier they called stasis hit the Prince, it hit hard. 

But there was no where to really recover. No point that Nyx could see within reach, no delay in the onslaught around them that he could slip a curative to get Noctis back on his feet. 

The tour of the Wall wasn’t meant to get this far. Noctis was less than a kilometre from the Gate at this point, still well behind the inspection lines where the Lucian nobility came to see the ravaged Cavaugh border from a safe distance. They were usually in and out before the red clays of the chasm stained their robes; only Regis had ever ventured further than the supply line and medical tents. Only the King had wandered the besieged ruins of what was once a trading post on the shared border, the narrow crossing held for thousands of years if the plaques that remained were accurate. 

No one challenged King Regis. 

No one could resist challenging Prince Noctis.

“Deep breath, Noct, deep breath.”

Nyx tightened his grip on his kukri and dragged Noctis to the shadow of a ruined building. 

With a hand to his head, Noctis groaned, and Nyx knew he was trying to will his magic back to him. “Stop talking, Nyx.”

“Never going to happen, little star,” beyond the little shadow the attack raged on. A spout of fire— from a mage, from a Nif weapon, Nyx couldn’t say— singed the already blackened ground where they had just been. “Get in the corner until you’re yourself.”

“I’m not helpless, and you’re not a hero.”

“Got a few dozen medals that disagree with you, Highness,” the heavy, mechanical steps of MTs marching in unison shook the ground in tandem with the fresh troops being dropped by the airships overhead. Dead or captured, that was what Nyx assumed the Nif plan was; overwhelm the formal tour before the Citadel reinforcements could cross that short distance between the Gate and the medical line. Nyx repositioned himself and shoved Noctis back hard against the wall threatening to crumble. “Be right back.”

Whatever Noctis was going to say was lost in the scream of mechanics dying beneath his blade. Nyx turned before he fully materialized, building on the momentum of the warp as she struck out at the next MT and the next, ignoring the burn of his arm as he called up a blast of fire once he had cleared the centre of the approaching unit. His final strike with the kukri had it embedded in the clay at Noctis’ feet, and he shielded the Prince from the wave of heat and smoke and steam that followed him back. 

“Show off,” Noctis muttered, but Nyx saw that familiar little smile as Noctis released the grip he had gained on the heavy (and now heated) uniform jacket. 

“Only for you,” Nyx meant it to be confident, arrogant. The airy tone he took with Pelna and Luche when they scolded him for the same moves, the same reckless destruction. But they were close, and the barrier Nyx had thrown up in his wake was starting to shatter under the onslaught of retaliation. “But I think I got their attention.”

When stasis broke in the training yards, it was a palpable change in the air. Noctis straightened, smirked, and levelled whatever playing field they were on at the time. Where he would have been stranded and left wrecked where he was until his innate magic regenerated, he tended to return stronger and more cocksure than before— facing off against his opponents among the familiar Glaive recruits.

But that had always been without the immediate threat of MTs approaching them and a barrier cracking under the pressure. That had been without the Captain’s barked orders as Glaives and Shield struggled to cross the lines the platoon that had just been dropped on them formed without the backup rumbling in from the Gate. 

That was without the safety of the Citadel looming overhead. 

When stasis broke amid the chaos, it broke the MTs attempting to reach them. 

Nyx was pushed to one side as Noctis stood and unleashed the unrefined magic that flowed through him while his phantom sword blinked between reality to deflect the shots breaking through Nyx’s barrier. The fire came first, consuming the MTs who had managed to get closer than Nyx realized. The ice took the rest— metal twisting and breaking under the sudden cold, the frost spreading across the charred ground like a cloud of steam while Glaives rushed in from the other side to strike down the mechanical monstrosities that were left. 

The phantom sword materialized easily in Noctis’ hand, but there was no warp to finish off the remains of the platoon. Nyx saw the furious young Shield lashing out with the sword as big as he was. 

Nyx was on his feet before the Captain and the Shield reached them, hands on Noctis’ shoulders, looking him over for any sign of damage from the magic, the MTs, the stasis that had sent them both tumbling opposite the safety of the approaching Lucian forces. “You okay?”

“Are you, hero?” Noctis smiled— that familiar, sure smile, like the display of power had been a party trick— and kissed Nyx quickly. “You were impressive.”

“I was impressive? What the hell was that?”

“That was me,” Noctis offered; “defending my Glaive.”


End file.
